


Tangled Tartans

by AnOutlandishFanfic



Series: Tangled Tartans [1]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 21:11:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14529270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnOutlandishFanfic/pseuds/AnOutlandishFanfic
Summary: Instead of Dougal choosing Jamie to marry Claire, he chooses Murtagh. How does this marriage of convenience pan out for them? How do their complicated, conflicted feelings of kinship, loyalty, respect, growing friendship, love, and passion come to be? And how will Claire’s undeniable bond with and attraction to Jamie impact things?**As canon Murtagh is 52 to Claire’s 26 (making him literally twice her age and old enough to be her father), you’ll find I’ve tweaked his age and story line with Ellen a little. He’s still very much in love with Jamie’s mother, but how this came to be is slightly different. Be patient and bear with me, it’ll make sense.





	Tangled Tartans

June 9th, 1743  
Murtagh.

“Ye‘re daft… or drunk, I dinna ken which.”

Dougal rose one shoulder in a half shrug, not bothering to turn from the vista to face me, “Tis the only way to keep her out o’ Randall’s hands.”

“Marry her off to Rupert,” I spat.

“None of my clan will marry a Sassenach, healer or no’,” he vowed.

“Then, Jamie, if ye must!”

Dougal snorted with a decisive shake of his head, “Nae, no’ the lad. Ye’ll marry in the morn.”

“I’ll remind ye tha’ yer no’ my laird, then,” I growled.

He turned to me, amusement evident in his eyes, “Oh, aye, I ken where yer loyalty lies, make no mistake… as well as yer heart.”

The image of his elder sister Ellen— my first and only love, now dead and buried — swam before my eyes, making my stomach clench.

“Leave her out of this.”

“Mhmm,” he intoned and went back to watching the sun set, “then ye can be the one to tell the Sassenach she’ll be reunited wi’ her captain on the morrow.”

“Ye wouldna,” I swallowed hard, envisioning Jamie’s back and the state I’d found him in at Fort William four years before.

To hand this young woman over to Captain Randall would be ensuring her demise, for he’d surely ruin her soul as well as lay waste to her body. The things I knew the man to be capable of, the rumors I’d heard of him only gave testimony to the fact that she would not be safe in his keeping.

Dougal responded simply, “‘Tis your choice, marry her or return her to Fort William.

…

Claire.

I stared at the document in my hand in complete disbelief. It was a marriage contract. A legal document that would, in essence, make me the wife and legal property of one Murtagh Alexander Fitzgibbons Fraser.

“May I ask ye somethin’, lass?” my betrothed murmured from beside me.

My hand trembled as I shoved the parchment back into his hands with a heavy nod.

“How old are ye?”

Of all the questions I expected to come from his lips, this was not one of them.

“What?” I stared at him dumbly.

“Yer age, lass,” one hand pulled frustratedly at the back of his neck. “I ken yer auld enough to be marrit once already, but…”

“Oh,” I stammered. “I’m twenty six.”

A look of relief passed over his face that was so marked that it made me ask him the same.

“How old are you?”

“Eight and thirty,” he answered readily.

Twelve years.

The knowledge that I was to wed a man a dozen years older than me knocked the air from my lungs. To be truthful, I’d thought him a good deal older than that and felt a very small measure of relief that he wasn’t, in fact, old enough to be my father.

“Aye, well… Tis no’ as great of a difference as some. Ye dinna look yer age.” He realized how this sounded at the same time I did and he hastened to add, “To yer benefit, to be sure! I’d thought ye only to be twenty a’ the most.”

I offered him a wobbly smile, but made no effort to thank him for the roundabout compliment. My peers in this century were mothers multiple times over by now, nearly on their way to old age, and I knew my complexion and guileless face often excluded me from being among their ranks, despite my height.

After a good deal of silence, Murtagh sighed heavily, “I dinna see as either of us have a choice in the matter. If I dinna claim ye, Randall will… an’ Dougal willna let any of his clan wed ye, the ass.”

Claim me.

Was I an object to be possessed? A piece of land to be stripped of its wealth, its bounty to be taken against its will?

To him, I was.  
But I refused to be a meek and obedient wife.


End file.
